It looked like glitter in the grey morning light. As though a stripper had gone on a mass rampage through the street and strewn the silvery flecks all along the sidewalk and adjoining roadway. If it weren't for the busted bricks and torn pavement, it might have been beautiful. The glass of the storefront had blown open, casting sparkling shafts of glass in all directions. Not only for her show, The Winebar but for all the shops on the tree lined street.
Karen had to take a moment to soak it all in, the busted cement and the uprooted tree that fell over part of her shop. 'Do not cry', she commanded herself as she bit into the inside corner of her cheek. Maybe it wasn't so bad inside. She pushed away the gibbering side of her mind that demanded how she was going to pay for all this! How was she going to come back from this set back? Maybe it wasn't so bad inside. It was just glass. That could be replaced. The bricks could be reset. The big crack in the wall surely wasn't the foundation.
It wasn't until she pushed open the door and smelled the alcohol that she felt the hot sting spark against her eyes. 'Do not cry fucking cry!' The floor was submerged in water, the water line must have busted as well? As she pad into the room, her white shoes turned red and she realized it wasn't water at all as the wine soaked swiftly through and into her socks. The walls inside that had carefully cradled the ten years of hard work, exploration and collection, slumped and sagged in places. In other places the shelves were violently torn from the walls. The valuable contents lay shattered and jumble along the floor, scattered and ruined, the lifeblood of wine pooling all around her.
There was no waking up from this nightmare. No one was going to come and save her. Despite how often she looked down out the shattered window, no hunky, hulking fireman in his tight suits came charging out with broom at the ready to sweep her up with his burly arm and save her. "Alright Karen-nothing's going to get cleaned up unless you start doing it." In a haze of heart sickness, she put on the heavy gloves and got to work putting the broken bottles into the bin.
"What the fuuuuck?" A youthful voice asked just behind her as Freddie came sauntering up to the shattered storefront and peered through the frame that once held the plate glass window. His youthful face looked gaunt and haunted as he gawked like some landed fish. "The fuuuuuck!" Lean shoulders slumped forward as disappointment rolled off of him. He swept a pale, sea-green gaze back and forth through the rubble of his former workplace. He seemed to take notice of Karen only after the shock of the damage had settled into his clouded mind. "Miss Bishop. Uh-Hey. Hey, don't worry, it will be fine. We'll take care of this."
This wasn't the rescue Karen wanted. Freddie could barely be trusted to find his own ass most mornings. On the best of days, he would show up an hour after his scheduled start time. Forgotten keys were the norm. This morning he showed off that freshly rolled out of bed look, in his t-shirt with, 'Fucking classy' scrawled across a rumpled chest. His fire-red hair puffed up in all directions like licks of flame. He'd still not managed to get it cut as she'd recommended almost a month ago. Even from across the wine strewn room, through the rich bouquet of the various aged vintages, she could make out the bitter scent of the joint that clung to him from getting his 'wake and bake' on.
The long limbed youth walked right through the open window, huge feet in those thick soled boots crunching into the glass and rubble and he gave a big, toothy smile of reassurance. She remembered when she'd hired him two years ago, at only just twenty-one. He had been an energetic, exciting and clumsy young man. All legs and arms and teeth. She felt old watching Freddie, who had slowly grown into those long limbs. Too old. The red-head grabbed up the broom, thick fingers grasping the weathered handle with purpose. He set his jaw and started to sweep the debris around the window. "Miss Bishop. It will be ok." He said again, stronger this time, lifting his voice above the clatter and clank of the glass that was swept into a pile. "Just got to clean this up and we will be back, good as new!" He had a slight southern drawl in his rich base voice, and always called her 'miss', as though she were a belle of the south. Respectful, despite his casual laziness. When had his voice gotten so deep? Wasn't it just that Christmas when he was belting out high notes during the rare karaoke that he'd cajoled her into going to?
"It's not going to be alright Freddie." She shot back, tasting the acid of her anger. Fear. He had the youthful promise of his life ahead of him, she had only the dwindling years of spiraling failure. Forty was too old to start over again. Not when it had taken her so long to get this far. "You should just go. You're going to make it worse. Will you just stop? Put down the fucking broom." Karen caught a look of herself in the shattered glass, her white-blonde hair pulled up into a messy pile, her makeup only partly on thanks to the betraying tears and the laugh lines were not masked by the makeup now. The silvery eyes that so often sparkled in delight were as hard edged as the shattered glass now. She didn't like that face that glinted back at her with the lost-girl look.
The sound of the sweeping did not stop, it became an angry punctuation of the young man's determination and refusal to be sent away. ' Not. Leaving. Not. Going. Away.' Hissed the sweep and flick as the glass piled up in a messy heap.
The broken bottles continued to fall into the bin as she numbly threw them away. 1989, François Raveneau, 2004 Bouchard Père & Fils, the 1992 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvinon. Her stomach coiled somewhere near her spine and her throat closed with pain. Clank! Into the bin they went. Grace, Harlan Estate, Bryant Family, Araujo, "Eisele Vineyard". Clink.
'Just put don't think about it. ' she hissed to herself! Don't think about the ruin of the dream of having this fancy wine bar in the heart of Napa. All the people who would be denied the enjoyment of any of this precious collection.
Another broken bottle with its renowned vineyard and year crashed into the bin, louder this time as she put her frustration into flinging it. 1990. 1983. No one would get to savor these wines. They soaked into her shoes and socks, they stained her shirt with their angry lifeblood. Spattered and stained by the vintages that would go unappreciated. Shatter. The bottles rang together, breaking apart against the fury of the impact.
Shattered.
She didn't realize that the sweeping had stopped or that she had started to cry openly until she felt the careful hands on her shoulders. Silence replaced the clatter of crunching glass and into it, she sobbed brokenly, not turning to look at him. Her gloved hands closed over her face, smearing the wine across her cheeks. The wine tasted bitter on her lips as it dipped there and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. The gloves torn from her fingers with quick, hard tugs.
His chest rose and fell slowly against her back and he didn't say anything, barely touched her, was just there, hands resting on her shoulders, now and then giving a slow squeeze to let her know he was there. She threw the gloves onto the slumping bar and he slide the one hand down her arm, "It's going to be ok." He whispered down at her. When had he grown so much taller? So much thicker? The boy she saw day in and day out with his willowy arms and legs should not feel like this! Instead of the reed thin boy she expected, she found a fit and toned wall of muscle against her spine. It wasn't pot she smelled but mint when his mouth brushed her ear. The pads of his fingers were slightly roughened, they whispered with delicious friction against her smooth arm where his fingers brushed along her to comfort her.
His mouth brushed along her ear, lips parting so the heat of his tongue traced the shell of her ear and she felt the rumble through his chest as he sampled the taste of her. She shouldn't be doing this! Freddie! Young Freddie! Her throat tried to form the words, but her tongue was thick as gooseflesh danced and sparked down the length of her shoulder and down her arms to the webbing of her fingers. Anger so swiftly turned to passion. Passion set fire to a need that warmed the coiling tightness in her stomach.
The sensation of that grasping tension spread up through her chest until her nipples ached through the wine stained silk of her bra and shirt. The unexpected longing making her moan instead of demand him to stop. His big palm grazed down her arm to her wrist and then her fingers, dwarfing her hand with his threaded fingers with her own. Warmth spread through that touch, his grip full of unexpected confidence and promise. The pad of his thumb lightly caressed the palm, spiraling slowly outward, sending a lance of pleasure up the insides of her arms.
'What are you doing?' The pesky continence whispered within her. This was Freddie! She couldn't allow him to continue this. He was her employee! Her much distracted and irresponsible employee. It wasn't right. But even as that side of her mind tried to lead her to reason, his other hand was sliding along her neck, sweeping feathery hair from her skin so he could plant a searing kiss at the juncture of shoulder and throat from behind. The velvety warmth of his lips first and then a soft graze of teeth as he give her a small, faint nip and then swept his hot tongue across the spot, making her breath catch and her heart pound frantically somewhere with a primal mix of desire and need.
Freddie was just a boy. She started to draw away, to gather her fractured self control before she got too caught up in this. "Freddie..." She found her voice enough to breath out the single word in protest as she started to lean away from him. He didn't hold her back, allowing her to slide free of his hand against hers, but his body followed her forward, taking a step so that his thigh nuzzled up against hers when her legs shifted for her forward step from him. The purely adult body was still against her back, more solid this time, and his breath fluttered against the nape of her neck as he bowed his head forward, that wild red mane tickling her skin as he played kisses along her spine where her pinned up hair exposed her neck for him. His body felt all adult. The way his hips pushed forward to nuzzle his groin against the cleft of her ass was that of a man grown. There was no mistaking the thickening of his desire through the baggy sweat pants he was wearing.
"Just let me hold you." He whispered to her, still not reaching to prevent her from moving away if she wanted to. Her movements felt so slow and unsteady. An effort to try to make that next step and she felt the longer in her body pulling her towards him rather than away. Painful heartbeats ticked by and she could feel the tick of his heart thumping against her shoulders, his breath washing warmly over her flesh and she could not find the strength to take that next step. She should walk away. She knew it! All the reasons for doing the right thing flashed in her mind but none of them seemed right or good.
He wouldn't be an employee now that the shop was in ruin. She wasn't expected to manage him if there was no employment. Right? She was nearly twice his age, the faltering resistance tried to insist. The voice was a faint whisper against the roar of pleasure burning through her when his arm snared around her waist and carefully lured her back against his body. The resistance against it was slight but it still made her whole body tight. She did not fight away from it. From him. Instead he only needed to apply that extra bit pressure along his hand to draw her back with an insistent tug and her resolve crumbled. A hot blush crawled up her face and she felt the heat radiating off of her in time with the drum of her heart.
Around her feet, the wine made a sloshing sound and she turns to face Freddie at last. Part of her hoped seeing his long features and toothy smile would snap her back to her senses. Her stomach lurched with desire at the look in his pale green gaze. The smile was faint, a dimple showing along one corner of his cheek as he searched her eyes. No longer the coltish youngster she thought she knew. Like some childish mask had been finally pulled away to show the man within. His head bowed forward, God he was so tall, and his mouth found hers in a kiss that was anything but shy. A kiss that told her that he'd planned this for a very long time. A kiss that made her rise up on her toes to meet it.
He tasted like mint and honey. He felt like velvet and silk when his tongue boldly parted her lips to sample her deeply, coiling that powerful heat around her own, a quick taste as his moan let her know how much he enjoyed it and then he dared deeper into her while his arms circled around her, pulling her flush to him. Her breasts nuzzled his chest and then crushed up against him so she could sooth the ache in her nipples against the solid plains of his chest.
She felt his fingers tighten against her as the kiss heated between then, his breath a hot caress across her skin, her own panting in echo as she tangled her tongue with his, suckling against the slippery heat of him with abandon. The sound of ripping echoed through the room and she felt the fabric of the shirt give way, the buttons popping, the cloth tearing away to be tossed into the lake of ruined wine on the floor. Breaking the kiss, he bowed his head still lower, pushing the straps of her bra down, unclasping the hook with the other hand as he sunk down to his knees. Hot kisses peppered down her skin, across the swell of her breasts as he knelt for her. Through red lashes he glanced up at her while pulling down the cup of the silken bra to bring out the heavy breast with the pink nipple.
The hard bud of flesh puckered into a tighter little pearl as his breath whispered across her skin. He parted his lips, all the while keeping that steady gaze on her and slowly the tip of his tongue arched out. The tip of the tongue and the tip of the nipple met with an electric shimmer of sensation. Pleasure. Need. Lust. The spreading ball of desire joined the tension in her loins and she felt the heat of her sex bloom with a heated pulse. The lick made a semi-circle around her nipple and then changed direction, swirling under it before being captured by his full lips.
Why hadn't she noticed those full, sensual lips before? No longer wearing that big, goofy smile, the expression was one of haunting passion crackling in his level gaze. His tongue spiraled around the nipple that he's trapped between the suction of his lips. Faster, then slow, and just when she thought he would let the aching flesh slip free of the torment, teeth pressed into her. The other big hand closed around the unattended breast and squeezed, fingers dimpling the smooth globe of her flesh. Firm, almost painful, the grip sent a sweet ache from the nipple being ground into the rough palm and she sagged slightly, held up by the arm that still hooked around her hips for support. Again the teeth played against her nipple and he gave a series of little tugs that sent another rush of desire through her, making heat spread between her thighs.
She knew she was soaking her panties, could feel the sticky cream smearing between her concealed sex as she rubbed her thighs together. Soft kisses flickered between her breasts and he switched sides, suckling the opposite nipple, lapping against it, purring out in his obvious enjoyment of the act of feasting off her full, ripe tits. The hand did not move to cup the other breast however, it slid down her stomach and then lower, cupping her sex through her clothing.
"You're so hot!" He growled out at her, teeth biting against the side of her breast while his eyes burned up. "I want to taste you! I want to feel you hot little pussy coating my tongue with your need for me." The way he said it sent a thrill against her and her hips danced forward, feeling his thumb there against her, the other fingers coiling up between the cleft of her ass, squeezing.
Her legs gave out then. No, that was not true. She simply crumpled to the wet floor so she could join him on her knees. Ignoring the splash of wine around her, she reached for him, pulling at his shirt, tearing at it. It came off with a rip and tear of cloth as they tangled together to get it off. He was lean and powerful under the oversized shirt. Not skinny as she'd always expected but tight with muscles over his youthful frame, with a scattering of downy red fuzz over his chest. One of his nipples was pierced, a silver hoop with a teardrop of metal hung from it. He gave her pussy another squeeze through her pants and she tore her eyes away from the beauty of his body.
"I am going to tongue you until you beg me to stop." He whispered while his hand and those thick fingers pressed the fabric of her pants between the cleft of her sex. As though he'd thought of doing so for a long while. It made her heart skitter but she could only moan as he suddenly tore open the front of the slacks, clasp broken, cloth ripping and her shapely hips wriggled free, slipping and sliding against the spilled wine. "Look how wet you are!" His palm rubbed up along her pussy against only the underwear before drawing his hand back. She watched as his fingers were suckled between his lips, breathing in deep to take in the musky scent. Then he tore the underwear aside, ripping them right off to fling it aside.
The wine stained her skin, flicked and licked along her thigh and ass now that she was bare. He didn't care about the wine or the mess. He glided back, still on his knees and kissed his way down her tight stomach, rolling the flat of his tongue along her navel and coaxed one of her curved thighs up along his shoulder, parting them. "You smell so good." He whispered, looking up, meeting her gaze hungrily.
In sharp contrast to the chill of the wet floor, his mouth burned. He kissed against her bare mound, tongue flicking against the swollen lips while his thumb lightly traced outside them, not quite splitting the creamy folds. She could feel his fingers grow slick from her juices and moaned, tossing her head back. The musky scent of her desire mingled with the mixture of the vintages on the floor, it rippled around her, splashing up when her hips churned in response to him. She needed to feel that tongue inside her. Their eyes stayed locked and he smiled, that dimple flashing with a smirk sort of satisfaction. Then the smile was gone, the gaze dropping slowly to her pussy. Hunger blazed in his expression.
When his mouth settled against her cunt at last, she cried out in pleasure. His tongue split the swollen labia and slowly stroked upward to her clit, lapping slow and genital against it with a steady caress. One lick and a second and as he made for a third, a finger slowly parted her sex and slide into her up to the second knuckle. His moan vibrated through her, a rumbling delight and torment and he closed his lips around her clit, sucking against it while the finger probed deeper. Slow. So very slow, until she was sobbing for him to fully sink that fat thickness all the way into her. It swirled and coiled, hitting her g-spot before darting back before going all the way in. The tip flicked out, flickered around the foamy lips and then drove back in, this time all the way into her, driving a cry from her lips that he echoed against the clit.
His other hand cupped her breast, the thumb lightly rolling against the hardened nub of her nipple in contrast with how his lips sucked against her clit. The finger inside her thrust slowly in and out, steady and careful and then a second finger spilt her open, stretching her wider and pulling out a hoarse cry of hunger from her. The soles of her feet tingled, a liquid line of energy locking it to that tingling at the roof of her mouth. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. Every inward thrust he curled those rough, powerful fingers, the friction jolting her, pulling the wire of pleasure tighter.
Again. And-Again! Harder and faster, the fingers fucked her. The mouth suckled her. The thumb plucked her. Deeper. Rougher. She couldn't breath! Instead she screamed out her delight. The tip of his pinky finger tickled against her anus, swirling, daring. Sucking in a torn breath, she built up for another scream, bucking upward but he held her and drove fingers in deeper still, coiling into her g-spot curling them against the core of her sex. His teeth caught against her clit and pressed in. Nipped her. Bit her. Still the fingers thrust in faster, working against those clinging, clutching muscles so that just when she was gripping him, he was drawing out, only to slam back in again and send a renewed wave of pleasure through her.
She heard her voice echoing through the ruin of the room. Cried out his name. Screamed that she was cumming as her hips danced up in a primal response, sloshing the wine as she jerked and writhed against his face and his hands. She shuddered in her climax, a golden heat spreading through her, a hot rush and gush of her cream unlike anything she'd felt before. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she saw stars. In that moment she felt the whole world seem to shift and shake, groaning and rumbling as her body convulsed with the raw pleasure and power of her orgasm.
The waves of pleasure kept going, just as she thought she was about to come off that high, his fingers coaxed her right back to the brink. Arching upward, she crested again, the climax no less powerful than the first and her stomach clenched with the power of it, her muscles tight. He rocked his fingers in and out of those quivering folds while she came, so deep that knuckles seemed to bruise her flesh, the pain intensifying the pleasure. The speed lessoned as did her spasms, and he growled out his pleasure as the hot cum coated his fingers and wrists and trickled down his chin and throat. The licking grew more careful, kissing the aching hard pearl of her clit so carefully as she spiraled for a moment in the heat of the orgasms. True to his word, he was not stopping, he lapped up every sticky drop until she was whimpering for him to relent.
"I've got you!" He whispered, mouth grazing her pussy with wet, firm reassurance, "I'll always catch you." Assuring her as she slumped back into the wet floor, boneless, quivering, panting out in desperate pleasure. Only then did his licking stop. The fingers stayed deep inside her though, keeping her well and truly filled.
He slowly kissed his way up her body, wrapping her in his long arms. His fingers eased out of her, messily trailing along her stomach, writing dirty poetry on her flesh. He pulled her in against him, protecting her from the floor now, using his body as a pillow for her. "Hey, will you look at that." He rumbled softly and reaching over, slowly rolled a bottle in closer. A whole bottle, stained a bit with wine but not broken. "Vieux Château Certan, Pomerol 1964. Huh. See, not everything is broken. See, things aren't that bad afterall."
That is when a voice from outside called in, "What's going on out there?" And the broad shouldered man in the business suit peered over his sunglasses into the busted wine bar. His expression was not amused at what he saw. "Lady, what in the name of God are you doing?"
